


Megalomaniac

by JazzRaft



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9577718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: When he was a kid, he used to imagine himself as a superhero... He never felt closer to achieving that position until he met his nemesis.





	1. nemesis

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/155909721522/how-about-araneanyx-with-bite-i-dont-even) for the "Bite" prompt in [this post.](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/155862556736/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-prompt)

No one knew this about him – and no one ever would. Nyx liked comic books. He liked superhero movies. He liked the mindless explosions and melodramatic dialogue, he liked the grandeur of the superpowers juxtaposed with the ridiculousness of the costumes. When he was a kid, he used to imagine himself as a superhero – before he grew up and realized that vigilantism wasn’t a viable career choice. He never felt closer to achieving that position until he met his nemesis.

He knew that was what she was the third time he encountered her out in the field. The first time, he’d been dispatched to assist with a covert delivery and they were accosted in the woods by the band of mercenaries. Simple enough to ward off hired thugs whose best weapons were small daggers and black market guns when you had the Crystal of Lucis powering your punches. Less simple once she descended into the fray.

Like a pitch-black thunderbolt, she harpooned into the middle of the battle, kicking up dirt and fighting even dirtier. Ruthless, whirling blows swept Nyx’s allies off their feet, lance pinioning people to the ground, swift kicks to the head knocking them all out. A wild violence of black and red that left nothing untouched and - Nyx would only notice later - nothing dead.

When Nyx finally broke through the battle to confront her, she was ready for him. Even with the unpredictable chaos of the Crystal at Nyx’s command, somehow the woman seemed to know exactly where he’d appear every time. He warped circles around her, flitting from one space in time to the next as fast as he could and plowing at her with daggers raised even faster, but he only ever met the steel of her lance. And that was all she had, too. She had no supernatural powers, no military training; just a quick eye and quicker heels.

His frustration got the better of Nyx and he lost his footing for just a second. She swept her leg behind his and he went tumbling to his back, all the breath crashing out of him as he hit the dirt. He tried to jump back up, but the point of her lance grazed his throat, her foot on his chest. He could see her grinning behind the slates of her helmet, eyes cat-like and terrifying.

“Tell the other Lucian hounds that Aranea Highwind is on the Empire’s payroll now. Hopefully, one of you will get enough sense not to try double-crossing Niflheim again.”

Nyx snarled and called on the Crystal, but instead of seeing its sparks, he saw stars and the underside of her boot.

That was panel one.

He didn’t know why he thought panel two would read any better, especially not after he delivered her message to his Commander and the entire glaive turned white as sheets. Not even Drautos, in all his impassive glory, could conceal the slight twitch along the corner of his eye when Nyx said her name. It made Nyx sick to his stomach.

More so even when the second transport mission only consisted of two people who weren’t terrified to the point of pissing themselves. He and Crowe headed the operation, the small retinue of elite Crownsguard under their command crawling along behind the two glaives, eyes searching every pebble and leaf for signs of the enemy.

“If they haven’t caught us yet, they will if we keep going at this pace,” Crowe growled.

“How sweet, you know us so well,” said a voice from above.

They were perched in the trees like a flock of vultures and fell on them like wolves. Nyx kept his sights set on Aranea, who remained above, hand on her hip and smirking at the confusion below her, waiting for her men to clear the field.

“I’m goin’ for the leader!” Nyx shouted to Crowe and warped up before she could object.

He exploded out of warp-strike on the bough of the tree opposite Aranea’s, balancing on the buoyant bark. Aranea chuckled, shifting her own stance to mirror his.

“Well, this is a first,” she said, amused. “Let’s see what you’ve got, sweetheart.”

Nyx grit his teeth down on a less than savory comeback and warped towards her. His dagger landed in the branch below her feet and he followed an instant after. As he moved forward, she fell back, heels rolling off the bark in a deliberate descent. She alighted on the branch below, agile as a couerl, and looked up expectantly.

Nyx dropped down to follow her, but before he’d even landed, the hilt of her lance slammed into his abdomen. She swung it like a baseball bat and he was the ball that went whistling out into left field. He crashed through branches and slammed against a tree before wheeling back down to earth, getting tangled in leaves and twigs and all kinds of crap on the way. Just before he made impact, he managed to get a hold of his daggers and throw one down, warping the rest of the way to the ground to flee gravity.

He collapsed over the hilt, groaning and cursing. Fuck nature. To add insult to injury, Aranea landed in front of him in a perfect crouch, springing back up like it was nothing. She rolled her shoulders and leaned on her lance, tongue clicking against the insides of her teeth.

“Oh, come _on_ , that can’t be the best you can do.”

“Lady, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

“Really? ‘Cause I’m startin’ to think you’re all bark and no bite.”

Nyx scrambled to his feet, ignoring the growing ghosts of bruises all over his body. He lunged at her while she stood there, looking so relaxed, but she snapped her lance right up to deflect his daggers like she’d been ready for him the whole time. She was teasing him, he could tell by the way she fought. She was playing defense, letting him swipe his daggers along her lance and throw out kicks that she bounced away from with the sinuous grace of a venomous snake. She was tricking him into thinking he could have the upper-hand and gods-damnit if he didn’t want to believe it.

She was stoking his ego so she could use it against him. He only realized this when he woke up in the infirmary later and Crowe slapped him in the arm for being so stupid. He slashed and spun and warped and punched at Aranea, but nothing landed. She backed away from every blow, and he finally thought he had her cornered when her deflective circuit brought her against a tree.

Nyx roared and ploughed forward. Just as he was about to hit her, the mercenary swiveled off of the tree, and Nyx’s momentum couldn’t be stopped fast enough. He crashed face-first into the trunk and the last thing he heard before blacking out was her laughing at him.

The third time was when he knew that this was a comic book arc and she was the supervillain to his superhero. It was when he figured out that she was all too aware of her role in the story and that she was enthralled with it. She thrived off his failures, added to his humiliation with meticulous and horrible delight.

The third time was a simple recon outing. And this time they didn’t come from above because they knew that was where the glaive would look. She was always one step ahead. They appeared from the shadows of the forest, prowling from the underbrush, and Aranea was right at the forefront. She was looking for Nyx, he noticed. Her head surveyed the crop of guards and glaives disinterestedly before picking his face out and smiling.

She made a quick sharp gesture and her men surged forward, steel meeting steel as their daggers met Lucian arms. Nyx went right for Aranea, prepared for her tricks this time. He warped to her left, trying to catch her from the side with a kick. Her lance swung around to catch his boot and she shoved him back. He bounced back onto the balls of his feet, determined not to end up on the ground. She must have noticed the change in tactic because her smile slowly changed, full of intrigue as she sidled down into a better stance.

They circled each other, baiting the other into making a move. Nyx forced himself to be patient. She’d been luring him into her little traps enough. Time for her to spring one of his. Her eyes glinted, knowingly, and she swung forward. Nyx crossed his daggers and caught her lance, then danced back from the kick she spun around it. Her attacks were deliberate. She knew he was trying something and she was just waiting for him to spring it on her. Impatient in the most dangerous of ways. And more than he had bargained for.

While they were just test blows, they were still brutal, his defenses putting a strain on his body as he tried to outlast her. She wasn’t giving him an opening. His plans were backfiring. He just couldn’t get close enough to her. But she could get close enough to him. And when she did, she made it abundantly clear to him how much she was relishing in this impromptu rivalry of theirs.

She swung her lance in a sideways arc and just as Nyx crossed his kukris to catch it, she quickly changed its direction and ploughed it downwards, in the point where his wrists had overlapped, forcing his arms down to avoid the sharp edges. While he was stuck, her arm caught across his chest, and she spun around behind him.

He froze, gulping down fear, a million futile escape plans cycling through his skull. She lifted up her visor and lowered her face next to his ear.

“Still a lot of bark, still not enough bite.”

Her teeth closed around the soft skin of his earlobe. A taunting nip, a tiny sliver of pain, and a wicked invasion of a vulnerable space. Nyx disentangled himself from her lance and swung around. As expected, he hit empty air as she spun around with him until she could reach her lance again and bump it into the small of his back.

“Better luck next time,” she said, airily.

Nyx roared in frustration and tried to slash at her again, but she’d already mounted her lance and pushed up into the trees, vanishing into the shade. He was left with her terrible laughter, a red blush on the back of his neck, and a renewed resolve to thwart her next time.

If this was a comic book arc, the hero was bound to get a leg up… eventually.


	2. big-shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> round two. fight!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/159905861822/fight-me-you-attractive-stranger-for-aranea) for [thesilverhairedgirl](http://thesilverhairedgirl.tumblr.com/) from [this prompt post.](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/159638211212/five-word-prompts)

“Fight me, you attractive stranger.”

She sang the words at him like a swooning Southern belle, only breaking character to cackle at the fuming expression on his face. That never got boring. The way his nose scrunched up and his teeth flashed white as he ground them down on a roar. The crimson splash of aggravation on his cheeks was such a handsome complement to his tanned skin. It pronounced the small tattoos beneath the corners of his eyes.

He made it way too easy to get under his skin. Ordinarily, Aranea would have preferred more of a challenge. But this glaive was just so damn _cute_ when he got angry. All Galahdian muscle and a hot temper to match it. If she had to give the Lucians credit for anything, it was their taste in cannon fodder. These little outings the Empire had her going on were made all the more entertaining when she chanced upon this particular Kingsglaive.

He was _fun_. Fiery and fast and not nearly as dumb as he looked. He met her lance with an intriguing pair of kukris – one Lucian, one Galahdian. And rarely did she have the opportunity to see the King’s power in action and up close. It was _intoxicating_. The only thing she would envy Lucis for… might be worth defecting _just_ for the slim chance at getting to play with that power. Or just to see more of it. She wasn’t picky.

But those were thoughts for when she didn’t have growling stomachs to feed. For now, she contented herself with pushing this particular glaive, just to see what he could do with that magic. And just to see him blush and hear him curse in his native language. A shame that she hadn’t gotten to cruise over the little cluster of islands before the Empire blew Galahd to bits. If the coarse language and hard lines of that body were any indicator, she thought she might have fit right in.

Instead of pining for the loss of a decent vacation spot, Aranea contented herself with this fine example of Galahdian warrior breeding. She liked luring him off on his own and picking a nice clear spot to spar with him. Either he didn’t realize his own value in sticking with his group, or it was just that easy to antagonize him. Either way, it was a win-win for her. Her men had an easier time taking out the Lucian soldiers without the Kingsglaive backing them up, and she got free entertainment while she waited for the “mission accomplished” to come in over the comms.

Presently, they were circling each other on a little plateau along the edges of Leide. A dust cloud in the distance marked where the scuffle between Nifs and Lucians was taking place without them. His eyes kept flickering towards it, constantly reminded that he shouldn’t be all the way over here. But then they would slick back towards her and harden every time the dust cloud was at his back – out of sight, and out of mind.

Aranea grinned at the focus, letting the tip of her lance scrape the hard clay earth beneath her heels as she loped across from him. Biting sparks out from beneath the steel on stone. She knew he was going to make the first move, even if he didn’t. The steely gray-blue of his eyes was steady, but the wheeling of his kukris in his hands bled with more nerves than it did intimidation. Aranea didn’t hesitate to taunt him with that.

“Am I making you nervous, handsome?” she purred, sloping a little deeper into her crouch.

She watched his jaw stiffen and chuckled at how quickly his fingers wrapped around the daggers to halt their ceaseless circuits over his knuckles. There was a beat of quiet, just as they both stepped, and then he was gone in a burst of blue-violet. The one down-side to this warping thing was that it was _noisy_. It almost wasn’t fair to the poor man, but Aranea didn’t feel in the least bit guilty about it.

Up. He liked to go high first. Get a lay of the land and a breath of clear air all the way up in the sky. They had that in common. A hiss of clean atmosphere, stilling the blood racing in his veins, before plunging down.

Aranea could barely hold in the laugh as she ducked the dagger. It landed behind her, and she knew he was about to follow. She brought up the shaft of her lance and, suddenly, there were a hundred pounds of hard glaive muscle folding over her lance with a wheezing “oof!” Caught mid-warp and thrown back onto the earth with the wind knocked out of him. Aranea pounced on him while he was stunned, pinning the bar of her lance over his throat and trapping him beneath it. His hands shot up to grip the shaft and push back to keep it from strangling him. He snarled in frustration when he found that he couldn’t over-power her downward press on the steel.

“You’re off your game today,” Aranea noted as she kneeled over him. “One move in and you’re already down on the mat? Tsk, tsk, Nyxie.”

His eyes widened and his face turned that fetching shade of scarlet she liked on him so much. She smirked behind her helm, having looked forward to dropping that nickname for a while.

“You were in the news,” she explained, applauding his little nugget of fame. “I was so proud. My favorite little punching bag turned out to be this big-shot ‘Hero of the Kingsglaive.’ As if you weren’t _adorable_ enough _._ ”

He opened his mouth to retort, but she shoved the lance down in a sudden press of power and choked the sound off in his throat. He gripped the lance harder and pushed back, both of their arms shaking with the effort to wrestle control over the weapon. While he gulped in the air she’d so _rudely_ cut off, she curled forward, the added weight of her torso over the lance putting more stress on his arms as he tried to keep it from strangling him.

“Careful that spotlight doesn’t shine so bright in your eyes that you don’t see me coming anymore. That would be heart-breaking.”

She pouted in mock despair. He gulped down enough air for his lungs to catch up with his words, and this time, Aranea let him talk. Because she liked that wild smirk that broke across his chapped lips, and the spiteful stab of his eyes as he spoke.

“Don’t think either of us has to worry. Knowing you? You’d just break the spotlight to get my attention.”

“Oh, so you think you know me, do you?” she said, voice dripping into his parted lips as he panted against the effort to hold her back.

“Just a bit,” he teased.

Biggs crackled in her ear then, gunfire and warp-sounds colliding in the background. He was puffing and panicked and saying that there were reinforcements from the Lucian side coming in. Way more than they might have anticipated.

Most of them were dressed in the armor of the Kingsglaive.

Aranea glanced up at the dust cloud in the distance, squinting through it to spot a thick line of black trucks racing into the fray. She felt Nyx trying to cease the opportunity of her distraction to surge up, but she shoved him back down without taking her eyes off the horizon. She raised a hand to her ear, slotting the heel of her boot against the shaft to replace it and maintain the trap she’d made of the lance against him.

“Fall back,” she sighed into the comms.

She caught Nyx’s smug smirk up at her and grinned as she leaned back down, glaring a challenge back into his eyes as she told Biggs, “They can have just this _one_.”


End file.
